Orientation Day
by KayValo87
Summary: A new orderly begins work at the VA hospital and receives some very peculiar instructions.
1. Chapter 1

**HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!**

Okay, so this story may not have a father in it, but it was conceived, developed, and completed on Father's Day. That works, right?

This is my very first A-Team fic, but it is a show my own father enjoyed back in the day so it was only fitting that I dedicate my first story for this show to him on this day. (I love you, Daddy!)

 **DISCLAIMER:** The only thing about the A-Team that I own is the third season on DVD. (But all original characters are mine.)

Enjoy ...

* * *

Pierce took a deep breath as he stepped out of the elevator onto the floor. He looked around at the ward – _his_ ward – and walked over to the nurse's desk. On the way, he glanced down at his white uniform and checked for any marks on his shoes. This was his first real job and he was determined to make a good impression.

"Hi," he greeted the woman at the desk with a smile. "I'm Pierce Baker; they told me downstairs to report here."

"Oh, yes," the nurse nodded, checking something on her computer. "You'll be working with Jake Tyler today. He's right over there."

She pointed out a tall orderly with broad, strong shoulders towering over a supply cart. The man looked more like a professional wrestler than a hospital employee, but this was the psychiatric ward. Did he ever have to wrestle unruly patients? Would Pierce have to wrestle unruly patients? Glancing down at his own slender arms, he began to wonder if this job opening was too good to be true.

"Hey," a voice boomed in front of him, almost making him jump. "You must be Pierce. Nurse Mitchell told me to expect you. I'm Jake."

"Nice to meet you," Pierce replied, trying not to wince at the strength of the man's handshake. "So, what's it like here? Many unruly patients?"

He hoped his question was casual enough that he didn't sound nervous; after all, a job was a job and he needed a job. Luckily, Jake just shook his head and lead the way down the hall.

"No, not too many. Mostly we have patients suffering from anxiety or delusions, but no one on this floor is all that violent."

Pierce managed to hold back a sigh of relief as Jake started to give him an overview of his daily duties. It all seemed fairly straightforward: check the supplies before breakfast, help patients to the cafeteria, stick around during meals to make sure no one chokes, transport patients to other parts of the hospital for tests … all in all, pretty much what he was expecting.

"After breakfast, check Room 104," Jake instructed as they stepped out of the supply room, "then go to the nurses' desk to find out who has morning tests to get to."

"Okay," Pierce nodded. "What's Room 104?"

"Mr. Murdock's room. I'll explain later."

As Jake continued to walk him through his day, Pierce's mind drifted back to the strange request. He couldn't help but wonder why he had to check on one patient after breakfast, especially if there were not supposed to be any unruly patients on this floor. Not that it mattered much, especially since he was promised an explanation, but it still bugged him.

"After lunch, check Room 104 and then you can help Nurse Charles at the pharmacy prepare the afternoon medication."

"All right, Jake. Is Mr. Murdock suicidal?"

"No, it's nothing like that. I'll explain in a minute."

Jake continued on to a list of dos and don'ts for working in the ward. Some of them made perfect sense, such as not having your lighter were a patient could reach it – especially Mr. Murdock – and make sure no one takes anything back to their room from the cafeteria or communal area – especially Mr. Murdock. In fact, the more he learned about working in the ward, the more Pierce began to wonder if they had more than one patient with an actual mental problem.

"If we have power problems, even just the lights flickering, go check Room 104," Jake continued. "If we have a busted water pipe, air conditioning malfunction, or any other structural issue, check room 104 and then call maintenance. If the phone lines are down for any reason, check room 104 and then go down to the front desk. If there are any strange deliveries or people picking up large pieces of equipment, check on Room 104. If you hear Mr. Murdock singing and he suddenly stops, _immediately_ check on Room 104."

"Basically, if anything happens at all, I check on Mr. Murdock?" Pierce summarized.

"Basically, yeah," Jake shrugged. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it after a while."

"Who _is_ this guy?"

"You wanna meet him?"

Pierce wasn't so sure he did, but didn't want to make a bad impression on his first day. So, he followed Jake to the infamous Room 104. It looked like all the other rooms from the outside; inside was a wide variety of things from a game system to a dart board. Was that a t-shirt tacked to the wall? In the middle of it all was a man. He was sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, engrossed in his video game. He was dressed like a giant kid in a Spiderman t-shirt and ball cap, which made sense if you looked around the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Murdock," Jake greeted warmly.

"Hi, Jake. Can't talk now."

The words were so fast, it took Pierce a minute to process what was said. Still, the ability to talk quickly wasn't exactly a red flag. Everything he could see about Mr. Murdock said he was as harmless as a child.

"I brought someone for you to meet," Jake prompted.

"Uh-huh," Mr. Murdock muttered, blasting something on his screen. "Give me 17 seconds."

An odd number, but surprisingly accurate. Exactly seventeen seconds later, Mr. Murdock finished his level and gave the orderlies a big smile.

"Did you beat your high score?" Jake asked.

"50 points higher," the patient beamed.

"Glad to hear it. This is Pierce, he's going to be working this floor."

"Hi, Pierce."

"Hi, Mr. Murdock. Um .. good job on your game."

"Thanks. Is there something else? The next level is a killer."

"No, go ahead," Jake replied, ushering Pierce out of the room.

He closed the door as the sounds of laser blasts resumed, but the encounter raised more questions than answers. The man seemed harmless enough, though this was a mental ward. Still, if Mr. Murdock was not violent or suicidal, why so much fuss?

"I don't get it," Pierce commented after a moment. "He seems like a great guy."

"Oh, he is," Jake confirmed.

"Then why the heightened security?"

"Ever hear of Harry Houdini?"

Pierce stopped in his tracks as the realization sunk in. _That_ was why he had to check on this guy five times a day? He was an escape artist? Not a very good one of he was still around, but how could someone break out from a power outage? The doors weren't even electronic!

"If he's that good, how is he still here?"

"No one really knows," Jake shrugged. "He'll disappear for days on end, then show up and ask for his room key like this place is a hotel."

"Any idea where he goes?"

"I asked him once, he said he was in South America."

" _South America_?"

"That's what he said, went off on some sort of adventure in the jungle, but I think downtown LA is closer to the mark."

That made sense. After all, how could a mental patient get to South America and back? Although, he had to wonder where Mr. Murdock was sneaking off too. Based on his room, Pierce would put money on the arcade and any comic book stores in walking distance. Still, there was one nagging question that remained.

"Why do I have to keep an eye out for deliveries?"

"Because Mr. Murdock uses _anything_ as a distraction to bolt."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the lights began to flicker on and off. Sharing a look, the two men raced down the hall to peer through the door of Room 104. Mr. Murdock was laying on his bed with a comic book over his face. As they watched, he peeked over the pages to complain that his game wasn't working. Jake promised to have it looked at and sent Pierce to find the maintenance guy.

He hadn't gone far when he bumped into a man in a white jumpsuit. He looked more like a model than a laborer, but the label above his pocket did say MAINTENANCE, so who was he to judge? Pierce quickly explained the situation and the man assured him that it was just a minor glitch and he would have it repaired in no time. Jogging back to the nurses' desk, the new orderly reported to Jake was the maintenance guy had said.

"Great," the senior orderly said, letting out a sigh of relief. "For a minute, I thought we were going to lose Mr. Murdock again. Believe me, you do NOT want to deal with that sort of paperwork."

Pierce nodded in agreement. The forms he filled out to take the job were more than enough to last him the rest of the year. Seeing the two maintenance guys heading into the elevator, he returned to his work, determined to get through his first day without a hitch. On his way to the supply closet, he glanced into Mr. Murdock's room and stopped. The comic was all that was left on the bed.

"Jake!" Pierce shouted, trying to remember which key unlocked the door.

In seconds the senior orderly was at his side, taking in the sight of the empty room. Somehow Mr. Murdock had vanished from a locked room without a trace. How did he do it? They had only been gone for two minutes – if that!

"It happens to the best of us," Jake sighed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll show you where the reports are kept."

* * *

Anyone catch what happened to Murdock? Who feels bad for Pierce?

Let me know what you think. (I'm currently writing a multi-chapter A-Team fic in what little free time my master's program allows. Any encouragement is appreciated.)


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so I wasn't actually planning on writing a second chapter to this, but someone asked me to (and I honestly can't remember who) so I did.

 ***NOTE*** _Everyone who guessed was right: Face was the first maintenance guy and Murdock was the second._

This had no beta, so I hope you will forgive any errors. (I did read it aloud several times to try and catch everything, so I hope that helped.)

This is for all the people who reviewed to the last story and encouraged me to write in this new fandom. Thank you for your support.

Enjoy ...

* * *

Pierce stowed his wheelchair and headed back to the nurses' desk to check his next assignment. His first week had gone very well – with the exception of losing Mr. Murdock on day one. Even though Jake and the rest of the staff told him to let it go, he just couldn't get it out of his head. Granted, it did make him more attentive to his other patients, but it was still a failure on his part. Well, it was not going to happen again; when Mr. Murdock got back, he was going to start wearing a bell … assuming they could legally do that.

"Mr. Levine is back in his room," Pierce reported to the nurse at the desk. "Who's up next?"

"Mr. Fraser is needed in radiology, but not until two," she replied, typing at her computer. "Why don't you go get some lunch?"

Nodding, Pierce headed for the elevator. There was a sandwich shop nearby that he had heard good things about and Jake had promised to show him where it was. The guy had been trying to cheer him up since that fiasco on his first day – everyone had been trying to cheer him up – but it was no use.

"Hey, Pierce," another orderly called when he reached the lobby. "You heading to lunch?"

"Hey, Matt," he muttered in reply. "You seen Jake?"

"Not since this morning. What's wrong? You lose a patient or something?"

"Yeah," Pierce grumbled, looking down at his shoes. "Mr. Murdock."

"Ah, that doesn't count!" Matt assured him, giving his shoulder a friendly jab. "Everyone loses Mr. Murdock at one time or another. I even lost him once and I don't even work on your floor."

"It's true," a new voice chimed in.

Pierce looked up to see another orderly. He didn't know him well, but had seen him around the hospital. If memory served, his name was Tom and he was assigned to the trauma unit. It seemed Mr. Murdock's reputation went well beyond his ward.

"Yeah, Tom should know," Matt laughed. "Remember the time he escaped from you?"

"Hey, at least I came close to stopping him," Tom shot back.

"Please," Matt rolled his eyes, "you tripped over a bush!"

"You were outside?" Pierce questioned.

"Yeah," Tom admitted. "I saw him hop the fence and make a break for the parking lot. I would have caught him, if-"

"If the plant life hadn't gotten in the way," Jake finished, joining them in the lobby. "You ready for lunch, Pierce? I'm buying."

"In a minute. Matt, how did he get away from you?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he answered with a sigh. "Catch you guys later."

He headed toward the elevator along with Tom. Jake led the way out the front door and the two orderlies strolled down the block. It was a nice day; warm sun cooled by a soft breeze that kept it from becoming too hot. But even under the bright blue sky, Pierce's personally storm cloud came creeping back. It didn't really matter how many people had lost Mr. Murdock, what mattered was that he did. He had failed on his _first day._

"You aren't still down about Mr. Murdock, are you?" Jake asked as they reached the sandwich shop.

"I just can't believe I messed up that badly."

"What could you have done differently? Besides, it's not healthy to obsess over this. Trust me, you do not want to end up like Harper."

"Who's Harper?"

"An orderly that used to work on our floor. He lost Mr. Murdock over a dozen times and became obsessed with making sure he never left the hospital – ever. That was a dark time in the mental ward."

"Where is Harper now?"

"Room 218."

Jake's tone may have been calm, but Pierce was anything but. The man had been committed after prolonged contact with Mr. Murdock? Was he that messed up that he drove other people insane?!

"Hi, Jake, Pierce," Nurse Cindy Meadows greeted, showing up at their table. "May I join you?"

Jake gave her permission, but Pierce was still reeling over what he had just heard. Maybe it was a good thing Mr. Murdock was gone – but he had seemed so nice!

"What's wrong, Pierce?" Cindy asked with a frown.

"He's worried about Mr. Murdock," Jake replied, adding salt to his fries. "I tried to tell him it wasn't a big deal."

"You told me he drives people insane."

"What? Jake!" Cindy scolded. "Don't listen to him, Mr. Murdock is a sweetheart. I once saw him offer a guy the shirt on his back … and his left shoe … and right sock … but it's the thought that counts."

"Have you ever lost him?" Pierce asked, stabbing his pickle with a toothpick.

"Once," she admitted. "A man came in claiming to be from military intelligence and said that Mr. Murdock's rants were giving away government secrets. I didn't find out until later that he was a fake."

"So, he has help?"

"Sometimes," Jake confirmed between bites. "Not sure who would want a crazy man … or why."

"You know what Tony says, right?" Cindy asked, dropping her voice. "He thinks that the A-Team is behind it."

Pierce had heard of the A-Team – who hadn't? – but couldn't see what they would want with a loony Army captain. Jake seemed to agree with him, claiming that the janitor had been reading too many spy novels. Still, Cindy insisted that Mr. Murdock had known the A-Team back in Vietnam and that Tony speculated that they pulled him out for visits. Seemed like a lot of trouble to go to for a few days of catching up, but it wasn't as if three wanted men could sign the guest log book.

"You really think the A-Team took him?" Pierce asked as the three walked back toward the hospital.

"I hope so," Cindy replied. "That way he has someone taking care of him."

Made sense. A guy like Mr. Murdock wasn't safe out in the streets alone. Just when he had the thought, Pierce looked up to see a very familiar leather jacket on the sidewalk ahead of him. Could it be? Jake said he'd come back in a few days, and it had been five days … but it couldn't be that easy! Could it?

"Mr. Murdock?" he called, daring to hope.

The man turned around and gave them a confused look from under his ballcap. Pierce may only have seen him once before, but it sure looked like his lost patient. Luckily, Jake and Cindy were a lot faster to respond.

"Mr. Murdock, we've been worried about you," Cindy said, gently taking his arm.

"I can't find Billy," the man complained as he allowed himself to be led inside. "Have you seen him anywhere?"

Pierce looked to Jake, unsure how to respond. He didn't know a Billy and wasn't sure if the person was real or not. The senior orderly didn't miss a beat, assuring their patient that his dog was probably still in his room where he left him. Since Pierce had never seen a dog in or around the hospital in the five days he'd been there, he was just going to assume that this was another fantasy. Speaking of which, there was something he just had to ask.

"Mr. Murdock, where did you go?"

The man's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. For the rest of the trip to Room 104 he heard about how Mr. Murdock had traveled to Mexico to fight a drug lord with a socket wrench, a bike chain, and a "rusty old tractor." He was almost sorry he asked.

"You wouldn't believe it," Mr. Murdock ranted. "The guy had this huge tiger – I mean a _huge_ tiger; this thing was like King Kong with claws – and it tried to eat me! Luckily, an angel came out of nowhere with a bazooka propelled net. Don't worry though, no animals were harmed in the making of this picture."

"Is he always like this when he comes back?" Pierce whispered to Jake as they locked the door.

"Only if you ask him where he went."

Point taken. Pierce glanced through the screen on the door to see that Mr. Murdock seemed to be telling his adventure to a pillow that was now wearing his ballcap. He shook his head and went to get the wheelchair for Mr. Fraser. Janitor Tony was way off base.

What could the A-Team do with _that_ guy?

* * *

So, what do you think of Pierce's assumptions about our dearest mental patient?

BTW, I would write the story of what he did in Mexico, but I'm having trouble coming up with a viable plan that includes a socket wrench, bike chain, and "a rusty old tractor." However, I may write the story of Harper and how his obsession with our lovable pilot landing him in a secure mental ward. (If you want me too.)

Thanks for reading, I look forward to your feedback.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again.

Sorry for the silence, but planning a wedding while getting a masters degree takes up a lot of time. (I actually had this finished for the 4th of July, but for some reason or another I just never got around to posting it.) However, my anxiety spiked the other day and I could _really_ use the pick me up, so I thought I would put this up and see what people think of it.

For the record: **THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER.**

Seriously, this was always meant to be a one-shot, but people kept asking me questions like "What happens when Murdock gets back?" or "When will Pierce accept that Murdock is going to leave and come back whenever he wants?" Each question inspired a new chapter, but this is it. I draw the line here! (Please see endnote for the terms and conditions.)

This conclusion is for Tripidydoodah who wrote the review that sparked the idea that became this chapter. (I feel like the author of "This is the House that Jack Built ...)

Enjoy ...

* * *

Pierce strolled down the hallway, automatically heading towards room 104. Checking in with Mr. Murdock had become a natural part of his routine, ever since his return last month. It was a nice little break from the normal duties of an orderly – though it was fast becoming one of them – and gave Pierce some peace of mind. Even though the staff assured him that Mr. Murdock had received nothing more serious than a bruise on his – for lack of a better word – adventure, the man was still in his ward and therefore his responsibility. Besides that, he liked the guy!

Sure, the first dozen or so check-ins had been motivated by paranoia and an intense aversion to paperwork, but after a while … Mr. Murdock was one of those people that just grew on you. Once you got past the moments of random behavior and the invisible dog, he was just a regular guy. It was easy now to imagine why the A-Team would want to visit with him; who wouldn't? The frequent check-ins had become the highlight of Pierce's day.

"Hello, Mr. Murdock," he greeted, looking through the grate on the door. "How's the new comic."

"Finished it this morning," he answered. "They said it was Lex Luther, but I think the butler did it."

Pierce couldn't hold back his smile. Ever since the hospital movie night had played _Murder By Death_ , Mr. Murdock had insisted the butler was to blame for everything from the weather to who ate his new socks – and convincing him that no one had eaten his socks was as futile as trying to figure out why they were found a day later, in a bush, with faces drawn on them.

"I'm sure you're right," Pierce replied, having learned long before not to try correcting him. "Any plans to run off yet?"

"I'll let you know."

Pierce nodded and waved goodbye before returning to his duties. While he doubted that Mr. Murdock would actually confide in him if he was planning another escape, the words had become part of their routine. It was like a game the two played and he was sure his patient was enjoying it as much as he was.

"Hey, Pierce!"

He turned to see Jake jogging toward him. He had been on vacation for the last week and – based on the tan – must have just returned. Pierce paused halfway to the supply room to give him time to catch up and greeted his former trainer with a smile.

"How was Hawaii?"

"Try Fresno," Jake let out a humorless laugh. "I got roped into helping out my uncle on his farm. Not the best vacation I've ever had."

"Sorry to hear it," Pierce replied. "What's up?"

"I have another trainee coming this afternoon and was wondering if you could cover for me in the art room."

Pierce almost winced at the thought. The art room was one of two things: way too boring or way too active. The calmer patients used the room for arts and crafts, usually finger-painting or soap carving. However, fights have broken out – the last one being over a lucky popsicle stick – and when that happens the orderlies usually wind up with paint or some other supply all over them. Still, someone had to make sure no one tried eating the soap – which had happened – or drinking the paint – which had also happened – so Pierce reluctantly agreed.

Two hours into his shift in the art room, he was beginning to regret being so helpful. Whoever had come up with the idea of paper mache as an activity for metal pateints should be shot – repeatedly. It may not be toxic, but two people trying to "make a mask" on a third was still risky, and that wasn't even considering the one who tried to "make a mask" on themselves or the woman who tried to swallow the balloons. With only half an hour left for Pierce in purgatory, salvation walked through the door in a leather jacket and ball cap.

"Hey, Pierce."

"Hi, Mr. Murdock," he greeted, picking flour-based glue and bits of paper off his hands. "We … uh … have paper mache today."

"Okay," he replied, before walking over to a seat at the soap carving table.

It wasn't surprising; it was the craft he seemed to enjoy the most. Granted, there was a three-day period when he thought he was the successor to Van Gogh and tried to create a mural on his bedroom wall using Jello – which he claimed was his only option, as the tyrannical staff would not allow him to take the finger-paint out of the art room – but even he could be consistent at times. Almost ten minutes of carving later, Pierce was starting to wonder how constant he was being.

"That's a skinny swan," the orderly commented, stopping at the soap table.

"Not making a swan today," Mr. Murdock stated, carefully curving one end of the thin rectangle he had carved. "I'm making a key."

Pierce watched for a few more minutes as the white block began to change shape into a classic skeleton key. He may not be Van Gogh, but Mr. Murdock was a decent sculptor when he put in effort. But why a key? Pierce hesitated to ask about it, especially when he remembered some of his patient's previous answers. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"What made you decide on a key today?"

"Oh, I'm going to use it to bust out of here."

He really needed to learn to stop asking.

"Bust out?" Pierce clarified, trying to keep his voice even.

"Yup," Mr. Murdock answered with a smile, smoothing out the shaft on his key.

For a moment, Pierce wasn't sure what to do. All logic said that no one – not even Mr. Murdock – could break out of a secure ward with a skeleton key made out of soap. They didn't even use skeleton keys! On the other hand, Mr. Murdock defied logic on a near daily basis. On that note, if he did get out, it wouldn't be too long before he was back, safe and sound. But what was an orderly to do with this kind of information?

Part of him wanted to report it, but could only imagine the staff laughing at him for believing a mental patient could pull something like that off. And if he said nothing and Mr. Murdock did make a break for it, he would be responsible for any harm that came to him because he knew in advance that it would happen. But there was always Tony's theory …

"Mr. Murdock," he whispered, squatting down beside the table. "Do you have anywhere to go when you … um … bust out? Anyone who can take care of you?"

"Yup," he replied with a firm nod.

He almost asked about the A-Team, but that only seemed to confuse the guy. Maybe he didn't know his friends were the A-Team – it wasn't as if they would bring a mental patient with them on one of their crusades – but he did seem to have friends out there. Who was he to stand between them? Knowing there was a strong chance he would regret it, Pierce lowered his voice even more.

"Look, I'm off in twenty minutes and really don't want to get stuck doing paperwork, so do you think you can wait a while before you bust out?"

"Roger Wilco," he agreed. "I'll give it twenty-two minutes."

Knowing that was the best he was going to get – assuming the soap key worked – Pierce went back to the paper mache table to stop someone from plastering their neighbor's hand to a chair. Before he knew it, his relief had shown up. With a quick goodbye to Mr. Murdock, he hurried down to clock out. Jake was in the locker room when he got there and laughed at his appearance.

"You knew they were doing paper mache, didn't you?" Pierce accused.

"Why do you think I volunteered to help the trainee?" Jake chuckled, gathering his things from his locker.

Pierce could only glare as he grabbed his own gear. He would shower would he got home, but until then he would just have to – the blare of an alarm cut into his thoughts.

 _It couldn't be._

Jake hurried back to the nurses' station, with Pierce right behind him. Even though he had known he said it would happen, the new orderly was having trouble believing it. How could Mr. Murdock have broken out with a soap key?!

"What's going on?" Jake asked when they reached the desk.

"Somehow Mr. Murdock got the art room window unlocked," the frazzled nurse reported. "Some of the guys outside saw him climb out the window, but I'm not sure if they caught him."

"We didn't," Matt reported, sounding a little winded. "Some older guy was waiting for him in a corvette. Didn't see his face though."

"Sorry, buddy," Jake shrugged. "You know the rules: you lose him, you do the paperwork."

"Your floor lost him," Matt protested. "You do the paperwork."

"No can do, we were both off shift before it happened. Right, Pierce?"

Unable to help it, Pierce checked his watch. It was almost four minutes since he clocked out, and roughly two since the alarm sounded. If Mr. Murdock was anything, he sure was punctual. Thank the Lord.

"Sorry, Matt," he smiled, slinging his bag on his shoulder. "Not our shift, not our paperwork."

Leaving his friend to figure out who actually was responsible for Mr. Murdock at the time of his escape – lest he get stuck filling out the report – Pierce followed Jake out to the parking lot. Driving home, he kept an eye out for a corvette. He may not have done anything to prevent the break out, but Mr. Murdock was still one of his patients. More than that, he was a friend and he didn't want him to get hurt. Still, he could take comfort in the fact that he wasn't the only person who felt that way. Somewhere out there was an older man who would take care of his patient and bring him back after their "adventure."

* * *

 **THE END**

What do you think of Pierce's final thoughts on Murdock and his friends?

Writing this I have come to really love Pierce and his theories as to what Murdock does when he leaves the VA. This is why I am planning a multi-chapter fic where he needs the A-Team's help and finds a ... interesting way of asking for it. (It may be a bit for me to type it up with my schedule, but I do plan to write it as soon as I can iron out a few wrinkles.)

On that note, I have completed a four piece story of the origins of the A-Team (taking place in Vietnam sometime around 1969-70). The only thing is, I'm trying to decide if I should post in in segments (with daily updates) or as one long one-shot. Any thoughts?


End file.
